


Pick Up Your Feet

by highfalutin baby birb (fevered_dreams)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Getting Together, High School, M/M, Pining, Pining Prompto Argentum, running as flirting lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-05 19:59:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17331392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fevered_dreams/pseuds/highfalutin%20baby%20birb
Summary: It’s been brought to Prompto’s attention that Noctis isn’t actually all that good at running. As the future King, that won’t do at all. There are enemies everywhere, after all, and Prompto can’t bear the thought of Noctis falling to any of them.So, it only makes sense for Prompto to teach Noctis how to run and maybe develop a horrible crush in the meantime.





	Pick Up Your Feet

**Author's Note:**

> my first story with the characters from FFXV! i've wanted to write them for awhile, though, so i hope it turned out well, and i hope everyone sounds in-character!

Prompto notices just how slow Noctis is during their last year of high school. It’s a bit difficult to see exactly how far Noctis trudges behind him becoming ause of the water weighing his eyelashes down, but Prompto can at least tell that Noctis is nowhere in sight.

“Noct?” Prompto calls out. The rain muffles his voice, but the echo left behind in its wake fills the expanse between them easily. Regardless, he receives no response.

And the anxiety rises.

Prompto tamps it down as best as he can. It’s just a little rain, he tells himself. What‘s the worst that could happen? “Noct? Buddy? You good? Still standing and not drowning in some deceptively deep puddle I passed by in the middle of the street? Give two moody grunts if you can hear me!”

“I’m fine!”

Noctis’ voice barely carries over the heavy rain, but he hears it nonetheless. Still, he doesn’t actually see Noctis.

So, Prompto leaves the safety of a small overhang to see for himself just how fine Noctis probably isn’t. He jogs quickly back from whence they came, careful to avoid breaking out into a full-on sprint lest he end up slipping. In general, he goes very carefully.

Yet, despite all his efforts, he ends up tripping right over a crouching and weary Noctis anyway.

“Hey, watch it!” Noctis grunts, muffled from where his tender, princely cheek presses flat against the rushing mud. In Prompto’s opinion, his pale skin contrasts nicely against the dark slush, but he figures that’s also probably a thought better suited for another time. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“If I really wanted to, I could kill you so much faster in so many easier ways,” Prompto says from where he awkwardly half-rests atop Noctis.

Prompto has definitely touched Noctis before. He likes touching people. Not in a weird way, of course. But he finds comfort in the feeling of warm skin beneath his hands - skin that feels almost like his despite the strange lines that brand him.

Noct, in particular, is not some foreign entity to Prompto. He’s touched Noctis plenty of times, far more casually than Prompto probably should act towards His Highness himself, but Noctis has never told him off before, and Prompto finds his skin especially nice to smooth his hands over.

So, it’s not like he doesn’t know what Noctis feels like. Except, having Noctis sprawled underneath him, all taken aback and open, feels so much different. Noct is skinny, that’s for sure, but Prompto can just about feel the beginnings of some bulk that he’s never felt on him before.

And Prompto wishes he found that amusing. He wishes he could laugh about how Noctis has apparently been sneaking weight lifting sessions in despite how vehemently he insisted that he didn’t care for it, thank you very much, Gladio.

Most of all, he wishes the harder, thicker plans of Noctis’ newfound muscles didn’t feel so good against his own still scrawny body.

Prompto cannot be thinking about these things right now.

He makes a hasty attempt to stand up, only to slip on the mud beneath them. Thankfully, he’s much lighter now than he had been a few years ago, so he barely hurts Noctis when he falls over him again with a surprised gasp.

“Yeah, well, you’re doing a pretty good job right now either way,” Noctis mumbles.

Prompto’s next attempt to stand up fares much better. With a sturdy hand, he guides Noctis up, too. At this point, they’re both completely soaked and no doubt set to be chewed out by Ignis for catching pneumonia, so they both just leisurely walk to the closest convenience store.

“What were you doing back there, anyway?” Prompto asks.

Noctis shrugs, shoulders weighed down by the rain. “I got tired.”

“What?”

“I got too tired to run anymore. But I was gonna meet up with you, eventually, so you didn’t need to run back and almost kill me like that.”

Prompto huffs, rounding in front of Noctis to better glare up at him. “Come on, how was I supposed to know that you hadn’t fallen into a ditch or some weird sinkhole? I didn’t expect you to just get _tired_ like that.”

“I’m not a long-distance runner like you, unfortunately.”

“I’d hardly consider myself a long-distance runner. At most I can run maybe… a half-marathon?”

Noctis’ glare doesn’t show very well past his thick bangs, wet and flat against his face, but Prompto feels it regardless.

“And, you know, it’s not like I came straight out of the womb being able to run half-marathons. I had to work up from it from not being able to run two minutes without dry heaving in the very beginning. You could too, if you wanted to,” Prompto continues in a flurry.

“Not interested,” Noctis responds flatly.

In front of them, finally, stands a convenience store. The lights within flicker ominously, but they walk inside because there’s not much else they can do. The guy at the register wrinkles his nose at them when he sees all the water and mud trailing behind them, but, fortunately, he doesn’t make them leave.

“Come on, Noct,” Prompto says. “You’re the prince. You gotta be quick on your feet, or who knows what’ll happen? For all you know, some super fast assassin ninjas could come out of the woodwork any day now to come take you out. You know, like they do to the princess of some noble country in all those movies and comic book.”

“But then her trusty guards come rescue her from the assassin ninjas, and she comes remains unscathed and still bad at running,” Noctis deadpans.

“Well, you know, it’s not like I’ve ever actually fought any assassin ninjas before, so anything could happen, really,” Prompto says.

Noctis doesn’t even spare him a sidelong glance. “I’m sure you three could figure something out. That’s why you’re here, after all.”

“And I was sure I’m here because I’m your friend. One of your only ones, might I add.”

“My friend who will protect me from those so-called ninjas that apparently exists,” Noctis adds unhelpfully.

Prompto sighs before slotting himself straight into the middle of Noctis’ line of vision. “Noct, I’m being serious here. I’m not saying you need to go and train for a half-marathon, but you can’t go around, unable to run for more than ten minutes at a time.”

“Watch me.

“Hasn’t Gladio been trying to get you to run with him in the mornings for awhile now?” Prompto soldiers on, pretending to not notice the displeased scowl on Noctis’ face. It takes more effort than he’d like because it just looks so cute. “Maybe you should take him up on his offer one day.”

“No thanks. Six in the morning is way too early for anyone to wake up.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. It’s not so bad after you get used to it.”

Noctis narrows his eyes at Prompto like he’s the face of a new conspiracy theory. “Do you also wake up early to run?”

“Of course,” Prompto replies. “It’s really not that bad after awhile. You know, after the twenty-one days it takes to form a habit, but twenty-one days go back pretty quickly when you have someone helping you out.”

“You expect me to run with Gladio in the morning for twenty-one day’s straight?” Noctis scoffs. “He’d chew me to pieces by day three.”

“You could always run with me instead, if Gladio’s that bad. He seems like a nice enough guy to me, though, and he’s already your royal personal trainer, isn’t he?” Prompto asks.

“That’s exactly why I can’t run with him. I already spend enough time getting knocked flat on my ass as it is.”

“Then join me!” Prompto exclaims, and his mind is set. “We can start slow, I promise. I remember just how hard it was for me in the beginning, too, so I won’t go around kicking your ass like Gladio would.”

Noctis’ expression scream unconvinced and unmoved, but Prompto can just barely spot the hint of intrigue rearing its head in Noctis’ big, beautiful eyes.

“It’ll be fun. We can make it fun. Won’t you at least try it out? Please?” And Prompto’s begging now, but that’s perfectly fine by him; he’s not above a little good, old-fashioned begging if the need arises. After all, Ignis once mentioned that Prompto’s endearing optimism was one of his strongest points, and Prompto trusts Ignis.

Besides, he owns a mirror. He knows how cute he is now that he’s lost weight, and everyone struggles to say no to a cute face like his.

He supposes that’s also why he always struggles to say no to Noctis, but that’s not the point right now.

Either way, Noctis continues to stare at him with that same bland expression of his, but the facade further waves. Then, Prompto can’t stop the smile breaking across his face as Noctis’ expression drops another ounce of hesitance because he knows his endearing begging has won once more.

“Fine. I’ll try it, but I’m not making any promises about anything long-term,” Noctis grumbles.

Prompto undergoes a series of great pains to avoid revealing just how excited he is because he’s sure that would only turn Noctis off. So, he instead opts to throw his arm around Noctis’ shoulder, ignoring the burgeoning muscle spanning over and between his deltoids, before hailing Noct over to the register with his secret stash of snacks in hand.

Predictably, Noct pays for it all, even when Prompto makes a show out of pulling out his wallet. Still, Noctis eagerly pilfers a few chips on their way out, face affixed with that princely smirk of his that Prompto thinks about sometimes when he’s home alone.

The sky’s clear now and only shallow puddles remain. Their clothes are even somewhat dry now, but Ignis still makes a show of lecturing them later for their carelessness and inability to check a simple weather forecast before heading out without any umbrellas.

Regardless, Prompto can’t find it in himself to be too upset when he’s finally won Noctis over - to run with him, that is.

Yeah. That's it.

 

* * *

 

 

They agree to start the following Monday because Noctis insists on having one last weekend to himself before his early morning woes begin.

Prompto waits with bated breath until Monday morning comes along. Then, he waits longer past the break of dawn. Finally, he’s certain Noctis won’t be coming, and he jogs off to school with a nasty pout and more disappointment than he’d like to admit because it’s not big deal, he repeats to himself like the sad mantra of a lovesick teenage girl.

It’s just a run, and the burn in his chest comes from how hard he has to sprint to make it to class on time and nothing else.

When he reaches school, he vows to not mention it and just let the matter lay because it doesn’t _matter_. Except, then Noctis comes barreling into class with only a few minutes to spear, breath unsteady and forehead prickled with sweat.

“I’m sorry,” Noctis breathes, voice shaky but insistent. “I didn’t meant to flake on you this morning. I just forgot to set my alarm this morning. I’ll run with you tomorrow, promise.”

Prompto has to swallow before he can speak because, otherwise, the dry, scratched expanse of his throat might kill him, and he can’t just up and die in the middle of class like that. That would be rude. He swallows once, and then again because the way that Noctis’ hands clench around his deck make his pale, pasty noodle arms look surprisingly good, and that also kills Prompto.

When he finally feels like he’s not on the verge of dying via Noctis’ determined gaze and veiny forearms, Prompt responds with a quiet, “It’s fine. You don’t actually have to if you really don’t don’t to. I won’t force you.”

Noctis shakes his head, and his bangs fluff with it. “No, it’s fine. I said I’d try it out, so I will, and I’ll see you tomorrow morning, yeah?”

Prompto doesn’t know what to say in response. Thankfully, their teacher walks in right at that very moment, saving Prompto from inevitable embarrassment because, sometimes - most of the time - he’s still that chubby, antisocial kid who tried and failed to be someone else.

At least Noctis doesn’t seem to mind. And, true to his word, he shows up the next morning right on time.

“Alright, let’s start with a few stretches, and then we’ll get to work?” Prompto says.

Noctis grumbles a bit, clearly still sleep-addled. Prompto can see as much from drop of his eyelids and the unruly tuft of hair that sticks out adamantly from the back of his head. Nonetheless, he follows Prompto’s instructions with relative ease, and Prompto starts to feel that this whole running thing might be pretty promising.

He goes slow with a leisurely jog. Or, he thinks he goes slow. According to his pedometer, they barely reach a pace of six miles per hour, which he considers pretty easy, and it’s not like Noctis is that unfit.

Except, right before they even reach a single mile, Noctis pleads with him to stop and take a break, all but doubled over as he sucks in heaving breaths.

“Breathe in through your nose. It’ll help you get more oxygen into you.” Prompto says as he hovers over Noctis.

“That sounds fake,” Noctis huffs.

“Yeah, but it’s true.”

Noctis inhales deep through his nose, and his breathing begins to steady.

“Listen, buddy, you know I think you’re great and all, but I’m gonna have to be honest here and say that I really didn’t think you were _this_ out of shape,” Prompto says.

“I’m not out of shape,” Noctis argues. “I’m just not good at running.”

“I mean, I guess you could say that.”

“That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”

Prompto nods. “Yeah, definitely! So, you feel rested enough to try again, or…?”

“Already?” Noctis mumbles.

“Well, you’re not gonna get any better if we just stand around here. We all gotta start somewhere, but starting also means doing, or something like that. I don’t know, I’m not great at these inspirational speeches. But I am pretty good at running,” Prompto finishes lamely.

“I changed my mind,” Noctis whispers, and Prompto swears he almost passes out from how quickly his heart stops beating. It only starts back up again with a worrying jump after Noctis continues. “You’re even worse than Gladio.”

“I just figured you’ve been babied enough by Iggy. It’ll do you some good to be pushed like this,” Prompto says. He takes a ridiculous amount of pride in the steadiness of his voice because Noctis looks unfairly good in the dawning light around them, even as worn out as he is.

Noctis frowns, but he nods, too. Then, he lifts himself up, and when, exactly, had Noctis grown taller than him?

“Are we going or not? We don’t have much time before we have to get to class,” Noctis says.

Prompto blinks himself out of his reverie. Now he understands why some of the girls in their class love to gush about watching the sunrise with the men of their dreams.

He wonders if any of them imagined watching it with Noctis.

“Let’s do some intervals next,” Prompto says to stop himself from wondering so much. “How about we jog for two minutes, walk for one, and then repeat until we’re out of time?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Noctis performs much better this time. The new pace is a more appropriate level for him, apparently, but, for Prompto, he feels like he’s moving at a snail’s pace.

And that, he quickly discovers, is dangerous.

Prompto actually quite enjoys running nowadays. In the beginning, he hated the burn it left behind in his lungs, legs, and sides, but he kept on running on because he had to - because Prince Noctis was secretly just as lonely as he was, and it was his duty to relieve them both of their crushing loneliness that made them wonder what was life even supposed to mean if it was like this.

Now, he runs because thinking proves superfluous during a good run. The act of running requires little thought, after all. Just put one foot out, then the other, and eventually the body will do the rest with little effort - mentally, at least.

However, at such slow speeds, Prompto finds his mind wandering more than he’d like. Particularly, during the walking intervals where Noctis talks to him about short, random snippets of thoughts, Prompto can’t help but notice how nice Noctis’ profile looks, or how much he’s matured over the past few years.

Noctis tilts his head to the side as he speaks. He mentions something about Ignis’ most recent recipe, one that Iris particularly liked because of the apricot jam. Prompto barely takes in any of it, though, because the rising sun rays cut Noctis’ jaw so well, and that’s all Prompto can think about right now.

And that’s all he thinks about during their next handful of running sessions.

Because, surprisingly, Noctis continues to show up bright and early for days and weeks to come. For the first few weeks, he staggers into the park minutes late, bleary-eyes and adorably grumpy before they set off. Then, as time passes, he grows more and more agreeable to the idea of waking up moderately early.

Noct even gets better at running, though the ealization comes to Prompto a bit belated. Two months in, Noctis runs 5k’s with relative ease, even if he isn’t the fastest at them. That’s fine, though. They still have time before the snow falls to start working on his speed.

In the meantime, they also have time to do lots of other things.

“Hey, I really want to thank you for going along with this and keeping me company during my morning runs,” Prompto says. The scenery blurs around them prettily, but Prompto still has eyes for Noct because he’s grown even more unfairly attractive with each passing day.

Or, maybe Prompto’s simply become more and more endeared by Noctis with each secret, little thing Noct lets slip in his sleepy early morning moods.

Sometimes, he brings Prompto leftovers from whatever Ignis cooked up the night before. Prompto knows eating before a run never settles him very well, but he happily eats them regardless just to see the way Noctis smiles while telling him to wipe his mouth.

Other times, Noctis mumbles fanciful words by the hair of his breath, impossibilities from his dreams where Ignis has grown a beak while Gladio struts around, bald, yet as infuriating handsome as always.

“So I don’t forget them,” Noctis tells Prompto. “My father always tells me to pay attention to these things.”

And Prompto always nods, and he wonders why none of Noctis’ dreams seem to involve him.

Noctis’ voice calls him back to the present. “What, are you saying that you only asked me to go running with you just so you wouldn’t be lonely? What happened to training me?”

Prompto shrugs. “Training you was just the main reason. Doesn’t mean I can’t have any other intentions!”

“You could’ve just asked me to hangout.”

“But then you wouldn’t be this good at running now,” Prompto argues. “Anyway, hasn’t Gladio gotten off your case a bit all thanks to me?”

Noctis doesn’t respond, but Prompto knows he’s right.

“And that’s because I’ve helped train you to run a few miles without keeling over!” Prompto continues. He throws an arm around Noctis’s shoulder to see whether or not Noct has grown any broader.

It doesn’t seem like he has. Prompto feels both relieved and disappointed but that.

Regardless, he soldiers on.

“So, in celebration, I think we should use some of our mornings to go and do whatever you want! Not too many, of course, or you’ll lose all your new running skills.”

“You’re so generous,” Noctis says blandly.

Prompto plays along. “I know, right? So, what do you wanna do?”

Predictably, Noctis chooses fishing.

“This is good. The fish are really lively right now. It’ll be easy to reel them in,” Noctis whispers to himself, attention fixed on spooling his rod.

“See? There are lots of advantages to waking up early.”

Noctis doesn’t respond. Instead, he casts his reel out, and they wait.

To his credit, Noct catches quite a few fish of. All the while, Prompto cheers him on whenever he’s not snapping shots of Noctis smiling and enjoying himself, looking even more handsome bathed in the soft lighting of daybreak. Which means, for all the time he spends taking photos, Prompto actually stays quiet enough to avoid scaring away the fish, and the morning ends in success.

“You did great! You caught like, what, eight fish?” Prompto says when it’s all said and done.

“Mm-hmm,” Noctis hums, still pleased with himself. “Though none of them were edible.”

“You can just buy fish from the supermarket. Much easier and safer that way, if you ask me.”

“Does that mean you wouldn’t eat any fish I catch?” Noctis asks.

“That all depends on who cooks it.”

Noctis makes no indication he’s heard Prompto. Instead, he changes the subject into idle talk as they walk to school, but that’s fine by Prompto.

Noct’s voice sounds nice no matter what.

 

* * *

 

 

As it turns out, Noctis decides to go ahead and get Ignis to cook him some freshly-caught fish a week later. Prompto, of course, can’t turn such an illustrious invitation down.

Not to mention, eating dinner alone at home gets real boring real quick.

Out of all of Noctis’ royal family acquaintances, Prompto probably knows Ignis the best. Though, he’s not sure that means much when all he really knows about Ignis is the fact that he’s basically Noct’s nanny, a wonderful cook, and recently agreeable to being called “Iggy”.

Still, Prompto’s not entirely used to eating dinner with him while Noctis is away, running late from training with Gladio.

“I hope it’s to your liking,” Ignis says, gently laying down a beautiful fish dish.

“I can’t imagine that it wouldn’t be, knowing you,” Prompto responds, and it’s true.

“Thank you.”

They eat in relative silence. In the background, the TV plays the news.

Niflheim is at it again, it seems. Even more high-tech war machines have been spotted trouncing around the nearby lands, but Altissia and Lucis stand firm despite their steady encroach.

Prompto scratches absentmindedly at his wrist as he watches on. He stops when he notices Ignis looking.

“Prompto,” Ignis begins, eying Prompto’s wrist, and Prompto nearly leaps right out of his skin; his nerves might already be gone, even if the rest of his physical form remains. “I want to thank you for spending so much time with Noctis. I know just how hard it can be to convince him to rise at an early time.”

Prompto’s nerve endings settle back into his skin, and the itch returns in time with his relief. “Oh, yeah, it’s no problem at all! Noct’s my buddy, after all. Of course I’d want to spend time with him, and I’m already awake by that time, so it’s no hassle or me or anything.”

“I’m glad. It’s nice to see Noctis socializing with someone his own age.”

“I mean, he seems popular enough at school. People love to try to hangout with him. He just tends to be kinda… quiet in response.”

“He can be quite awkward at times. A result of being born and raised as the prince, I suppose,” Ignis muses. “Though, that’s exactly why I’m glad he has such a high-spirited friend like you. Not to mention, he’s extremely fond of you. I know he probably doesn’t express it much, but it’s true.”

Prompto finds it strange, being called high-spirited. He’s never thought of himself as such before, but, compared to Noctis who sometimes whispers about nightmares of a fallen Insomnia under his breath, maybe he is.

Though, he finds the thought of Noctis being _fond_ of him even stranger.

Prompto’s pretty sure they’re at least friends. Or, he hopes so. Being Noctis’ friend is exactly what he’s been working towards this whole time. Still, hearing it said aloud like that by someone like Ignis strikes him as odd.

But, even more than that, it makes Prompto feel ridiculously, unbearably good because he, too, is quite fond of Noctis. Maybe too fond.

Before he can think about it much longer, Noctis returns, and Prompto stifles a sigh of relief.

“You guys started without me?” Noctis asks.

“Of course. I wasn’t about to serve our guest a cold meal just because you were held up,” Ignis replies.

“You could’ve reheated it.”

“Serving reheated fish would’ve been an even greater insult.”

Noctis wrinkles his nose at his apparent defeat, and Prompto just laughs.

“It’s fine! Food’s still warm enough and super delicious! You gotta try it out, Noct!” Prompto urges.

Noctis sits down with a smile that gives Prompto a bona fide heart murmur.

“So, you like the fish I caught?” Noctis asks, still smiling and handsome.

Prompto’s pulse falters even more. “Oh, yeah! I didn’t know Insomnia had fish like this.”

“I’ll try to catch more for you in the future, if you’d like.”

“That - That’d be great,” Prompto whispers. Then, he quickly changes the subject. “Anyway, how’d your extra training go?”

“Terribly. Gladio’s about twice my size, so of course he can easily push me around. The guy needs to realize that training doesn’t need to _exactly_ simulate real combat.”

“You know he goes easy on you. You’re just still unskilled,” Ignis says.

“Yeah, well, it’s hard when he tells me I can’t use my warping abilities.”

“But at least you’re faster now, right? You look like you’ve gotten hit way less than you used to,” Prompto notes.

“Yeah, I’ve gotten better at dodging him now, even with that huge wooden plank he loves waving around.”

“And that’s all thanks to me!” Prompto exclaims. He spears another piece of fish for himself as a reward. “You should do something for me as thanks.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Noctis hums.

In the end, Prompto’s not sure if Noctis really does keep it in mind, but he does keep going on morning runs with him, and Prompto’s more than happy with that.

He even insists on runnin with Prompto on a fine, chilly Sunday afternoon. The clouds have begun to roll in, and Prompto can feel the beginnings of snow forming, but Noctis practically begs for Prompto to pick him up anyway.

Pick him up from the castle, that is.

Prompto wants to refuse. He kinda really does. The first and only time he visited the castle before had gone fairly well, but, by The Six, had it been stressful. And, on such a fine, chilly Sunday, Prompto would rather not be stressed.

But he’s home alone again today, and he hates being alone more than anything else.

So, he goes, and he’s greeted by the guards. They don’t recognize him, which is understandable, but they’ve been given orders to let him in despite their clear reservations against it. Further in, Prompto runs into someone who does recognize him - Gladio.

“Well, lookie here! If it isn’t Prompto!” Gladio exclaims, clapping one of his massive arms over Prompto’s shoulder. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been doing alright. It’s just been the same old same old,” Prompto says.

“Except for your early morning runs with the young prince, huh?”

“Well, I guess those are pretty new.”

“But I’m glad. Noctis can finally do something during training, even if it’s just running away.” Gladio’s hand falls over his shoulder again, this time with a gusto that nearly sends Prompto sprawling to the floor. “I’m glad he has such a good friend like you.”

Before Prompto can respond, Noctis appears, bundled up in all the cold weather athletic gear Prompto didn’t even know he had.

“Stop bothering Prompto,” Noctis says bluntly.

“I’m not bothering him. I’m just being friendly. Say, can I join your run, too?”

“No.” Noctis’ voice is firm.

Gladio scoffs. “Alright, I get it. I won’t get in your way, little prince.”

Gladio walks away before Prompto can even get a word in, but he doesn’t mind so much when he feels Noctis’ hand leading him away, already breaking into a light jog before they even leave the building.

The whole time, Prompto expects snow. He can feel the cold sticking to the crevices in his mouth as he talks to Noctis. Even the air around them feels stale with the promise of soft, sweet snowfall that will hopefully be gentle enough to not hinder their run too much.

He expects snow, but they get hail instead.

The rain starts suddenly. Nothing more than a light drizzle at first. Prompto’s own clothes aren’t suited for running in the rain, but he figures they have enough time to run back to the castle before it gets much worse.

And, just for thinking that, the rain grows so much worse so quickly. Within minutes, they’re soaked and scrambling to find cover under the approaching hail.

“The weather forecast didn’t say there’d be rain today,” Noctis grumbles as he tries to dry himself. Futilely, Prompto has to add. “I even checked this time.”

“I guess you really never can be prepared enough.” Prompto sighs past his shiver. He never did like feeling cold. It always made him feel uneasy with how accustomed he was to the chill.

So, he shivers like he’s freezing even though it’s nothing more than a slight breeze for him.

“I think the saying is actually ‘you can never be too well-prepared.’”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t really apply to this situation, does it?”

“No, I guess not.”

Noctis mumbles something to himself, but Prompto can’t hear it past the hail. The chunks have grown to the size of ping pong balls, so they’re stuck under the awning they’ve found until it dies down.

Noctis mumbles again, but he’s looking at Prompto now.

“Sorry, what was that? It’s hard to hear you when you’re always whispering to yourself like that.” Prompto leans in close to get away from the hail and closer to Noctis. From here, he can feel the heat radiating off of Noct’s skin.

It feels different from his own. The warmth, the give of flesh when Prompto accidentally brushes his fingers across Noctis’ arm, even the way Noctis breathes.

He’s different, but Prompto finds that comforting, in its own way.

“I said I’m sorry,” Noctis says quietly.

Prompt furrows his brows. “Sorry? For what?”

“For making you go on a run with me today. You could be at home relaxing, but instead we’re out here, cold and stuck in the middle of a hailstorm.”

If Noctis didn’t look so endearingly sincere, Prompto would’ve laughed. “Don’t be sorry. This isn’t your fault. You ever checked the forecast, didn’t you? Things like this just happen sometimes.”

“Yeah, but look at you. You’re shivering like a newborn puppy over there.”

“It’s fine,” Prompto says, and it’s both the truth and a little white lie. “I got my good running gear on.”

“Still, you look like you’re freezing. Come here, I’ll give you one of my jackets.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“I know, but I want to.”

“It’s fine, really.”

“Just come here and accept the damn jacket, won’t you?”

Prompto shakes his head and stands firm. He’d much rather have Noctis all bundled up than anything else, even if the breeze is starting to turn into a terrible chill. Nonetheless, Prompto steels his conviction to be stubborn in front of Noctis for once.

Except, he’d forgotten just how stubborn Noctis could be, too.

Noctis grabs ahold of him by his wrist - _that_ wrist - and Prompto panics. Noctis takes advantage of that to pull Prompto down, but it seems he hadn’t anticipated that Prompto would just go down that easily.

But Prompto does because he’s too nervous to avoid the fall, and Noctis is also too shocked to do anything about it.

This time, as he lays haphazardly sprawled over Noctis, Prompto can tell that Noctis has grown leaner even through the layers of clothing covering him.

And, even under overcast hovering over them, Noctis paints quite the impressive picture. His tools of choice are his pretty little lip, big, dark eyes, and the cheekbones that frame his face to give the canvas an unforgettable and delectable texture. The critics would give the image rave reviews, Prompto thinks.

He, too, thinks it looks good.

Noctis blinks up at him, and now Prompto thinks he should probably start moving soon because this is, undoubtedly, weird.

However, before he can, Noctis’ hand, cold and tinged a worryingly purple, slides across the side of Prompto’s face and through his bangs, so innocently as if the touch is so innocuous.

“Hey,” Noctis breathes. His voice is barely audible, but it rings clear.

“Hey,” Prompto breathes back. He hasn’t moved an inch, but Noctis doesn’t seem to mind. “Sorry for, uh… tripping over you and stuff.”

“It’s fine. It’s nice.”

Prompto must’ve cracked his head open during the fall. He must be in some kind of intricately cloying coma right now because a bad - wonderful - dream currently plays out before him. But, the dream feels so real, and he’s left confused and overwhelmed by the smells around him because he never smells anything in his dreams.

But the feeling of Noctis’ lips on his own overwhelms him further.

They’re cold and chapped, rough against Prompto’s own, but still so nice and soft, and he can’t get enough of the slide of Noctis’ tongue against his own, or the slink of cold fingers in his wet, matted hair.

The scene screams something unrelated to romance. Prompto knows that very well because, for as nice and saccharine as Noctis’ body heat is, he still feels wet and cold as hailstones fall and shatter beside them, and all of that is so unlike any great romance he’s ever heard of before. He knows all this very well, but none of that matters when he realizes that, perhaps, this isn’t a dream.

“You know, I’ve been waiting to do that for awhile.” Noctis’ words land on Prompto’s neck.

His kiss makes them dance.

“Yeah?” Prompto gusts, breathless and over the moon, hurtling straight towards a burning star with how pleased he is. “How long?”

“Ever since you first fell on me the first time a few months ago.”

Prompto barks out a laugh. “I guess you’ve been pretty patient then.”

“With you? Of course. I was worried any sudden movements would scare you off, considering how flighty you can be.”

“Well, I’m not running now, am I?” Prompto asks quietly.

Noctis pulls away just far enough to smile up at Prompto brightly, ever the young man he secretly is. “No, I guess not.”

They kiss again, and the hail doesn’t let up at all. That’s fine, though. Prompto doesn’t mind stopping for a break every once in awhile.

Kiss breaks with Noctis, he discovers, are especially nice.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you guys enjoyed it! i might do a second chapter sometime in the future? but we'll see haha
> 
> if you want to talk to me or want to know more about how you can support me or request a piece of writing, you can find me on [tumblr](https://fever-d-dreams.tumblr.com) and on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Fevered__Dreams)


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